


My Wayward Sons

by WeWillBeFree



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Series Ending, Everybody Lives, F/M, Fix-It, M/M, canon ending what´s that never happened, my boys deserve a happy ending, replaces 15x20, this is canon now because fuck everything else
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:15:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27675911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeWillBeFree/pseuds/WeWillBeFree
Summary: Jared and Jensen may not have to have a say about how the show may end in their world, but there is no way they are going to just sit by and let the same sad ending befall Sam and Dean. So when a certain nephilim offers them the chance to give the boys a glimpse on what the show writers have in store for them, they jump into action to save themselves from that miserable ending. Because what was this show about if not taking a plot somebody else had written for them, telling the author to go to hell and then rewrite it themselves?
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Castiel, Sam Winchester/Eileen
Comments: 4
Kudos: 41





	My Wayward Sons

**Author's Note:**

> Here is what my day looked like: I watched the finale, I cried for four hours straight, I got drunk, I sat down and wrote this in a single rush. I did so while being incredibly pissed off, a little bit intoxicated and also in a language that´s not my native one, so excuse any mistakes. However, I could not go to sleep tonight without proving those dumbass producers how easy it is to come up with a decent ending. Anyways, enjoy this alternate ending. The only one I will accept to have actually happened, that is, because fuck that sorry little excuse of a canon ending.

„You sure you wanna know? Take away all the anticipation?”, Dean teases his brother half-heartedly, earning himself one of his finest bitchy looks.

“What anticipation? This is our life, Dean, not some stupid TV show.”

Dean shrugs, taking another sip of his beer. “For us it is. But for them it is exactly that – just some stupid TV show.”

At that Sam can´t help but crack a smile. The tension was high in the common area of the bunker, a prolonged discussion between the brother already behind them. At this point, both were sick and tired of arguing over what to do next.

“I don´t think they would appreciate you calling their TV show stupid”, Sam smiles, sitting down opposite to his brother and accepting the offered beer. “They did invest 15 years of their lives in it after all.”

Dean raises his hands in a defeating manner. “Not my problem. They are just some actors with a couple of stupid names from another dimension. How should they know how our story ends?”

“Just two actors with one stupid name between them whose dimension somehow was miraculously sparred from being destroyed by Chuck and who managed to open a portal long enough to deliver something to us they thought is important to know”, he countered, unable to stop himself from adding a teasing “Jensen” at the end.

Dean chuntered, sliding lower in his chair. “You know, after visiting their world this one time all those years ago I did wonder if we´d actually ever get to meet them. The cast really seemed to like those two.”

“I´m just glad we didn´t actually get the guy who plays Castiel killed”, Sam shrugs. “They probably wouldn´t have been so nice to us otherwise.”

“Yeah well”, Dean argues, sitting up straight and pulling the bundle of paper laying on the table between them closer to him, turning it around so he can read the title. “You do realize that just because this is what happens in their world doesn´t mean it also has to happen in ours, right? I mean what did we defy Chuck for if it wasn´t Free Will? Can you imagine, going through forty years of this bullshit just because it makes an entertaining TV show in another universe?” Anger creeps into Dean´s voice, and rightfully so. 

“It doesn´t sound any weirder than God making us do all those things just because he was entertained by us”, Sam argues, eyeing the script from across the table as if it could go up in flames any minute.

“All mighty entertainment industry, being more powerful than God himself. Sounds about right”, Dean chuckles, but there is no humor in his voice. Silence fills the too big room, neither brother sure if they should take up the opportunity they were gifted.

“In the end, they said the show´s pilot episode aired in 2005, right? We already had lived more than half of our lives by then. We have zero proof that what happens in their show has any impact on our lives, do we?”, Sam argues, trying to understand the position his brother had taken earlier. Truly, no matter how often if happened, meeting themselves from another dimension always creeped Sam out. Even though this one time the other man had called himself Jared rather than Sam.

Dean, glad at the proposition that Sam is giving in and he no longer has to fight his brother about this, jumps on the bandwagon. “Right, like who do they think they are? Just open a portal, stride through it like their hot stuff simply because they have a couple millions in their bank accounts and think they can tell us how our story ends?”

Sam mirrors his brother´s energy now, sitting upright as well, anger creeping into his voice. “And they were so sure, too! What did they say exactly? That they were tricked out of their happy ending after all the time and investment they put into all of this and they couldn´t stand it if we were to befall the same destiny? What does that even mean?”

“Actors, man”, Dean agrees, staring angrily at the script in front of them their other selves had brought with them from that other world. “As if something like a happy ending even exists. I said it once, I´ll say it again: This is not their TV show, this is our life. Why should we give a shit about how they think it will continue on from now?”

“Right”, Sam agrees, fury in his eyes, fists balled on top of the table.

“Right”, agrees Dean with him, staring his brother in the eyes, letting a moment of anger and heat pass by. A tick of silence. Then another one. And finally – 

“So we´re reading it?”

“Hell yeah, we´re reading it.”

It takes the Winchesters about half an hour leafing through all of it, shoulders pressed together, their eyes flying over the lines simultaneously. Dean´s hand starts shaking a little as he turns the pages halfway through, but Sam is too spellbound to notice.  
Their beers are empty after the first three pages, the first few smiles shared over their dog, Miracle, and how Dean kept it in his room instead of Sam´s because after all these years he gave up pretending he didn´t have a soft spot for animals of all kinds – especially those his little brother is especially fond of. The longer they read though, the more the smiles on their faces fade, and as they stare at the last few paragraphs, neither one of them breaths.

The script is not thick and yet as Dean turns over the last page the sounds it makes, falling close, makes them both jump.

A minute goes by, and another one, and another one. Sam can´t tear his eyes away from the last page, staring blankly at the words The End. Dean meanwhile is nowhere looking near the script, eyes pointed towards the ceiling, trying his darn hardest to keep the tears swimming in his eyes from spilling over.

“So”, Sam finally breaks the silence, and he has to cough a little hearing how sore his voice sounds. “That sucked.”

Dean grinds his teeth together, hands balled to fists under the table. “You can say that again.” He tries to sound angry, disbelieving, amused even. Anything but the heaviness spreading in his chest, anything but the world trying to crush him beneath it. But no matter what brave face he puts up, his little tall brother can see right through it. He always could.

“You okay?”, he asks, worry clear in his voice, and distances himself a bit from Dean, so they are no longer pressed shoulder to shoulder and he can instead take a long look at his face, taking in the redness of nis neck, the creases in his forehead, the wetness in his eyes.

“Sure thing, Sammy”, Dean tries to reassure him, but it comes out like a croak. “Just can´t believe you continue to live your life without me, just like that. Thought you miss me at least a little bit.”

“Dean, that -”, Sam´s shocked, barely finding the words to comfort his brother, seeing the level of pain the other man is in, despite him trying to hide it away. But all it takes is one more look at his brother´s clenched jaw, at his poor attempt to keep his tears from overspilling, and shock turns into red hot wrath.

“Fuck that bullshit”, Sam yells, pushing the bounded stack of papers off the table and several feet away where it lands ungracefully under a bookshelf. “Fuck that ending and fuck them if they think that´s how it´s gonna be. Fuck their idea of a happy ending and fuck every single person who thought to himself “Oh yeah, you know what the Winchesters really need after a life of pain and fighting and being deceived and surviving all of it and coming out on top as the winners? Let´s kill one of them off immediately after having a spark of happiness in his live for once and the other one forget everything that matters to him during all of his life, give up on his home and his friends and his family – “ At the last word Sam´s voice breaks and now he is the one in whose eyes tears are piling although he couldn´t tell you whether they are from despair or anger. And all Dean can do is look up at his brother, standing tall, anger of unmeasurable extent burning through his veins while at the same time tears are spilling down his cheeks and wetting the collar of his shirt. And be glad that he isn´t alone in this. That in fact he never will be alone. His brother will be though. For forty goddamn years or more he will be alone. And just like that, both brothers are in tears, imprisoned by the thoughts of the pain the other one will have to endure.

“I will not leave you, Dean. You have to know this.” The anger is all still there when Sam sinks to his knees, looking up into his brother´s devastated face. “I will not leave you dead, I will not burn your body or continue on this road without you or, or -”, he has to stop for a short moment, wiping his face, “or name my goddamn son after you because that surely will make everything better, like what crackhead came up with that idea?”

He doesn´t want to, but Dean has to chuckle at that, dry and quick, but still. “Yeah, what´s up with that? Never thought you be so cheesy man. I thought you´d figure I´d hate a chick-flick like that.”

“Don´t”, Sam interrupts him, wiping the fake smile off his brother´s face. “I know you ar hurting right now Dean, and so am I, but goddamn it – I won´t let that happen.”

“Really? Because after Garth named his kids Sam and Cas, I kinda figured it would only be fair if there was also a little Dean running around”, he tries to lighten the mood, but Sam simply shakes his head and grips Dean´s hands in an attempt to make him understand the seriousness of the situation.

“Dean, I mean it”, he tells them, all despair gone from his voice and replaced with iron strong resolution. “I am not going to let this happen. We are not gonna let any of this happen. Got it?”   
And all Dean can do is hold his brother´s gaze, see the resolution in it, and nod.

“Got it.”

“Good”, Sam smiles. “In that case – we got work to do.”

They do so unwillingly, but they retrieve the script from where it had landed under the bookshelf, although neither of them makes the attempt to dust it off or repair the tear in the front page Sam´s wrath had left there, splitting the title in half. Dean regards it with nothing but disgust in his eyes. “Carry on my ass”, he mutters to himself, Sam already of to make some phone calls in another room. “We´ll show you what it means to actually Carry On, you spineless bastards.”

Both brothers know that there is no guarantee that any of this is actually going to happen, that what is written in one universe will have any effect on another. And maybe they would have taken the risk, letting their destiny happen whichever way it was supposed to happen, would it just – well, would it have sucked just a little less.

Okay - a lot less, actually.

So the first point in their to-do-list is to make sure that the possibility that any of this could happen in their world even exists. It takes nothing but a call to Jody and a lot of pacing around and many glasses of whiskey shared between the two while they are anxiously waiting to hear back from her to figure this first point out, but when she does finally call them back the next day, they can feel their hearts sink simultaneously.

“So there has been a pattern of attacks during the last few weeks, just like you said”, Jody is explaining to them, and the brothers share a quiet look, worry all over their faces. “You said your dad worked a similar case?”

“Yeah, in ´86”, Sam chimes in, having looked it up in Dad´s journal the previous night, finding the drawn picture of that god awful mask, just like it was written in that bullshit excuse of a final episode. “The same case, actually, a nest of vampires. They kidnap the kids, raise them for a while, make blood banks out of them. They wear mask so they´re able to play a long game, we think.” Sam explains, inwardly going through a checklist. He can hear Jody swallow dryly on the other end.

“So these vamps are doing the exact same things to those poor kids they did to my Alex?” Hearing that, Dean grabs the phone, taking a few paces around the kitchen, clearly trying to get rid of some of the nervous energy that didn´t want to leave him since he had to read about his own pitiful death not a day earlier.

“Yes, they are, but Jody, I need you to listen to me very carefully, okay?”, he instructs her, and only when she agrees, he keeps speaking. “I know you are angry right now, but that´s a whole nest we are talking about, six in total. And they have been around for quite a while; they are really dangerous.”

“Dean, every monster we have come across so far has been more or less dangerous– “, Jody tries to chime in, but Dean won`t even let her finish the sentence.

“Jody, we cannot tell you exactly why we are asking you not to do this, not because we don´t trust in your abilities as a hunter or as a Sheriff, but because it would jeopardize the entire plan, okay? All we ask you is to let it go and let someone else handle it.” She huffs at the other end, but by now the Winchester stubbornness in known and feared in the entire country. “I mean it, Jody. Think of your girls. Think what would happen to them if you weren´t to come home. What ending would that be, tell me”, he demands, basically growling now. “Tell me what kind of ending it would be if after everything your family went through you were to go off on this case and they´d rip you apart and your family had to go on living without you. Tell me what ending this would be, I am begging you.”

A few moments of silence at the other end of the line, and then the brothers can hear their friend letting out a deep breath. “A really shitty one, Dean”, she agrees. “It would be a pretty shitty ending.”

Both men relax a little at that, knowing their friend and her family is save, that they didn´t accidentally send her instead of themselves into a sure death.

“Somebody still has to work the case, though. We can´t just let all these people die, especially not the kids. So who will go there and chop some heads off? My bet is on you two?”

“No!”, they shout at nearly the exact same moment, stunning Jody into silence for a moment.

“Sorry”, Dean apologizes quickly, free hand buried in his hair, trying to hold himself together. “We´re having a bit of a bad day here. But we know exactly who we´re gonna put on the case, okay? Don´t worry about those people, Jody, they´re gonna be alright. Won´t even know what hit them.”

“Okay”, the Sheriff agrees with them, still a little stunned at the brothers refusing to take on a case this vehemently. “Just, whatever you decide or not decide to do, promise me, you´ll be save?”

Dean actually smiles a little at that, the first genuine smile within the past few days. “I promise you we are doing our best, Jody.”

The second call they make is to Garth who is a bit harder to get on board.

“This isn´t Twilight, Sam”, he teases the younger Winchester brother, “you can´t just send the werewolf to behead the evil vampire because you guys are too lazy to work the job. What, because you two defeated God with a capital G you wanna catch a break?” Garth is trying to humor them, Sam knows that, and yet he is as far away from being amused as a human being possibly can be, the words describing his brother´s death still bitter on his tongue.

“Garth, I am begging you. I know you don´t owe us anything, but if we mean anything to you, please take care of them? Your wife´s family, they are all werewolves, you have a full pack by your side. I can give you the exact location, I can tell you exactly how many guys there are, their fighting style – anything you need to know to do a clean sweep. We can even provide the machetes for you guys if you want them, or we have a bunch of hunters from the other dimension who would do anything for us, they can help out too - just please, Garth.” Sam is begging, he knows he is, and he knows he sounds nothing like the Sam Winchester his friend knows, like the Sam he has named his son after. And yet he can´t help himself, would beg on his knees for someone else to go finish those guys so he can keep his brother safe at home.

“Woah there, Sam, it is alright”, Garth chimes in before he starts to actually beg. “Don´t worry about it, okay? We´ll surprise them in daylight before they can hurt any more kids. My pack, they are purebloods mostly, so we´ll easily overpower them. It´s okay, you hear me? Everything´s okay.” Worry about his friend is clear as day in Garth´s voice, but Sam can´t think about that right now, can´t think about anything but putting a blanket around Dean´s shoulders and never letting him out of sight ever again.

“Thanks, Garth. I owe you and your family one”, he sighs.

“No worries, man. And I am not going to ask you any more questions, just – whenever you´re ready Sam, tell me? What´s going on?”

Sam nods, the first tears already soaking his shirt, until he realizes that Garth can´t see him. “I will. Once that nest is gone.”

“Sure thing, Sam. I´ll call you once the job is done.” And he hangs up, leaving Sam in an empty room. He knows he should feel relieved right now, but the dread has not left his frame yet, his heart. The sudden urge to see his brother, his alive and breathing and whole big brother is overwhelming and so, without wasting another second without him, he goes to find him in that too big of a home of theirs.

Reaching Jack is a little harder, considering God hardly has a phone number. Sam and Dean try not to think of their kid that way though – after all, he never wanted to be called that name. It has been a tainted thing for the Winchesters anyway – God. They much rather would just talk to Jack.

“You sure he´s gonna answer? Last time we talked he seemed pretty intense on not meeting up again”, Dean argues, as uneasy as he has been for hours now. Garth has not called them back yet and nothing has been on the news so far – no report of a bunch of beheaded men in masks found in some abandoned barn, but no report of another family killed and their children kidnapped either. Sam tries to think positive, but with the poorly edited version of his life without Dean playing on repeat in the back of his mind, it is hard to focus.

“I can´t be considerate of that right now, Dean. The whole I will be in every breath you take and any thing you see was cute and in that moment really touching, I agree, but we need him right now. He is our kid after all and if we raised him right, he will answer, god damnit.”

Dean hums as an answer, watching his brother walk up and down, one hand buried in his hair, one hand gripping his neck in a nervous gesture as if he´d be afraid to fall apart would he let go of himself. “He didn´t want to write himself in the story is what he says”, he gently corrects his brother. “Didn´t want to make the same mistake Chuck did.”

“Well we are not just some fucking story, are we?”, Sam stops in his tracks and yells, a move so unexpected that Dean is taken back, physically leaning back in his chair to be farer away from him. They stare at each other for just a second, the air between them crackling with electricity, before Sam abruptly breaks the eye contact. “I didn´t mean to yell at you, Dean, I´m sorry”, the younger Winchester mumbles and Dean simply nods.

“You´re stressed, I get it.”

“It´s just – “, Sam takes a deep breath, debating his next few words. “If this is truly our last day together than I don´t, I don´t wanna spend it yelling at you and I am just not ready to -“ He is interrupted by a massive bear hug, Dean´s arms strong around him, cradling his head into the smaller man´s shoulder, holding him steady and save and being a reminder that Dean is there and alive and God – 

“You called?”

“Jack.” It is almost a cry, so relieved is Sam that the nephilim had actually answered his call, and Dean wonders for a brief second why it is that his brother who was prophesied to live a long and fulfilled life is so much more devastated by an ending that would ultimately get only him, Dean, killed.

“Thank God that you´re here – I, I mean”, Sam is stumbling over his words, some of that old awkwardness suddenly back. But all that Jack does is smile at them.

“It is okay, Sam. Being in everything and everywhere, watching over everything and being somehow at the root of all of it turns out to be pretty exhausting. It is nice to be back home – even though it barely has been a month”, he jokes lightly, as if the trauma of the past few months and years has never happened. And then, without a moment´s hesitation, he goes over to first Sam and then Dean and hugs them, simple and strong and both brothers feel a lot lighter all of the sudden – because of the little reunion or because of something Jack did to them, neither of them is sure.

“So how about the beer you offered up to have some time, Dean, and then we talk about why your pain radiates miles out although this should be the happiest and most relaxed times of your lives?”, he asks, smiling at them.

A few minutes later and the three men are settled around their dining table, a familiar scene. All three of them nurse their beers slowly, but only Jack is seeming to actually enjoy his.

“So”, he begins to speak slowly, looking between the two brothers, “since neither of you want to break the silence, guess I have to do it. Jared and Jensen really spooked you, didn´t they?”

“How did you - “, Sam starts, but becomes quiet when a small, warm smile spreads across Jack´s face.

“What about me being everywhere and seeing everything has slipped your mind, Sam?”, he reminds the man, but his voice is kind, never condescending. He takes another sip of his beer before he speaks up again, staring straight ahead on the table in front of him, smile still on his lips. So much different than the way Cuck used to smile at them. “Also, who did you think made that portal so those two could give you a chance at having another ending than that they were forced to go through?”

“Wait”, Dean sits up straighter at that, a clear sign of something having just occurred to him. “All those other dimensions Chuck destroyed – you brought them back too?”

It is clear that that thought hadn´t yet occurred to Sam either, as he stares at his son in wonder.

“I brough back all life”, Jack answers them, brow furrowed. “Everybody, human and animal alike, that was alive the moment Chuck destroyed their world. I thought I had made that clear.”

“Everybody, huh”, Dean chuckles darkly, taking a long sip from his beer. “I mean, don´t get me wrong kid, I am happy we are not the only world out there – but I guess you forgot a couple people.”

Jack only raises his eyebrows as an answer, clearly confused. He and Dean stare at each other for a few moments until the oldest Winchester can´t hold it in anymore. “Eileen, for example, Jack. We were at her place, she wasn´t there. She ain´t in the script either. Or, or Castiel.” His voice breaks only a little at the last word, something that doesn´t go unnoticed by his remaining family.

Jack seems to think for a few long moments, clearly debating the answer he wants to give. “Why she wasn´t in the script of that TV show that is so popular in that other world, I can´t tell you. I am trying my best not to get too involved in things. I would guess that that´s just bad writing. In this world though, she is perfectly fine. She is set up with a friend of hers, another hunter, in a safe house in Missouri. Why she didn´t call you, I don´t know, but if you want to have her new phone number – “ He holds up a piece of paper with a series of numbers on it, miracled into existing out of thin air, and Sam stares at it for one stunted moment before he snatches it out of Jack´s grip and runs off into the next room, one hand already searching for his phone in his pocket. Jack looks after him, his smile widening by a fracture. Already the pain he felt when he had arrived at the bunker has dampened a little. Now to the other, still very pained Winchester.

“As for Castiel”, he begins to explain, turning around in his chair to fully face Dean, “he died not when Chuck destroyed all life on this planet, but when the Empty snatched him. Those moments may only have been seconds apart, but he was already dead when Chuck did what he did, and therefore did not come back to life when I brought everybody back.” He watches as Dean clenches his teeth, letting his head drop in a defeated manner as he wonders just how much bad news a single person can receive within 24 hours without dying of the pain. 

“However”, the nephilim continues, not wanting to see the most stubborn of his dads in pain for a moment longer than absolutely necessary, “not writing myself into the story – not making myself the knight in shining armor who sweeps in to save the day – doesn´t mean I am not willing to right ends when I clearly see that the wrong thing has happened.” He leans a little closer to Dean who doesn´t yet find the energy in himself to look up, to afraid to let somebody else see the newly lightened spark of hope burning in his heart. “I am sorry I have kept you two separated for so long. When I found Castiel in the Empty, I asked him to help me with a little project of mine. It was selfish, I realize now, letting you two think he was still trapped in there.”

“So he is okay? He is alive?” Dean can´t help himself, letting the hope simmer trough, searching in Jack´s eyes for any trace of deceit. Every time he looked at Chuck, at his face, his expression, his eyes – it was the universe starring back at him, coldly and uncaring. Looking at Jack, he cannot see any of that. There are worlds trapped in the boy´s eyes, but they are warm and full of light and when he smiles at Dean, his tightly contained hope bursts through the seams of his chest and he is glowing, glowing in the face of God knowing that his Love is alive and out there and maybe there actually is something akin to a happy ending. 

“He is in Heaven, right now. Tearing down walls, making sure the people up there actually get what they deserve instead of just reliving their happy memories.”

Dean slowly nods, piecing the puzzle pieces together. “Yeah, that makes sense. I thought I read something about that in that god awful script.” Jack looks over to where the insulting stack of paper is sitting on top of a table nearby and his smile turns into a frown.

“It really is a terrible ending to an actual quite amazing show. If you want, I can get you and Sam the DVDs were you ever interested.” Dean wants to protest, to argue that the Supernatural books they have in this world are more than enough, but when he looks at Jack again, the galaxies in his eyes are gone and instead replaced with a sparkle of sarcasm Dean has seen on Castiel´s face so many times.

“Thanks, but I think we´re good”, he smiles, and Jack nods his answer. They sit in silence for a few comfortable moments, listening to Sam in the hallway, talking to somebody on the phone – not Eileen obviously, but her friend of the sounds of it, and all of the sudden they hear a sob, and a body hitting a wall, and Dean is already standing and about to sprint into the hallway, as Jack gently lifts a hand and holds him back.

“Trust me, he´s fine”, he reassures Dean who has his eyes fixed on the exit. “He just learned that Eileen is fine and only a few hours drive away. She´ll probably be here by morning.” Dean looks at him, taking a deep breath and sits back down, waiting on his overly joyous brother to join them. “I´ll make sure she has a save drive, too”, Jack adds, noticing the tension that remains in Dean´s shoulders. “Don´t worry though – I won´t try to rewrite your story or anything. You have taught me that Free Will is something worth fighting for, through everything, a lifelong – I won´t jeopardize that lesson by trying to make everything better the way I deem things should be. I will simply let them be.”

“Except of course if things mean I will die a horribly painful and undeserving, empty death, leaving Sam behind for many years, isn´t that right?” 

“Yeah well”, Jack has at least manners enough to sound embarrassed, “I am not going to tell you how I think you will be happy and should live your life. But I will make sure that you will have a life to live. You and Sam and Cas, all of you. You deserve so much; I cannot even put it into words.” And Jack smiles, sweet and soft and Dean´s heart melts, looking at his son, realizing what he almost lost but has won instead. “At the end of the day – who dares to tell you that you deserve to be unhappy but you yourself, Dean Winchester?”

Both men smile at that, Dean letting his shoulders hang, having had to shoulder too much for one day. He takes a deep breath, letting go of some of the many heavy emotions from the past day, but his thoughts are abruptly interrupted by his phone vibrating in his pocket. He looks up, but the chair in front oh him is empty. Looking around, Jack is nowhere to be seen, and weren´t it for the three beer bottles on the desk, Dean would doubt he had ever been there.

How things are though, his phone keeps demanding his focus, and out of nowhere the thought occurs to Dean that it could be Cas who´s calling them – Cas alive and breathing and fine.   
Fishing out the phone with shaking fingers, he recognizes Garth´s name on the screen, and his stomach drops a little, dreading the possible bad news. “Hey Garth”, he answers, voice rough and full of worry, “how did it go?”

It takes Sam another fifteen minutes to come back into the common area, a big smile plastered on his face. By then, Dean has long drained both their remaining drinks.  
“How´s Eileen?”, he asks his brother, actively ignoring the happy tears swimming in Sam´s eyes, marking the third time in just a day the undestroyable Winchester has broken down. 

“She is alive”, is his answer, and Sam lets himself fall onto the chair opposite to Dean, happy but exhausted. “She´s a bit bruised and confused and pretty pissed off at just being wiped away by the asshat Chuck, but she is alive, and she agreed to hotwire the next car and come straight here.”

“That´s amazing news, Sammy”, Dean smiles at him, seeing no protest in the other man´s expression at the nickname. “I got some pretty big news as well.”

“Yeah?”, Sam looks up, hair all over the place from running his hands through it nervously all day and night.

“Garth called”, Dean tells him, leaning back in his seat.

“And? C´mon Dean, this is the worst possible moment to let me wait”, Sam complains, and Dean has to chuckle at the normalcy of it.

“He is fine. Everyone of the pack is, actually. They caught the fangs asleep in broad daylight, chopped their heads off, did a clean sweep. They´re gone. Can´t hurt anybody else.”

“Can´t hurt you”, Sam adds, slumping down in his seat from the stress finally leaving his shoulders. “Did they say anything about a pole in a beam?”

Dean nods solemnly, rubbing at his chest and the phantom pain there. His brother watches closely. “There was one. Pretty far out. Looked like it could go right through a person, Garth said.” He swallows, trying to let it sound like a joke, but really there is no humor there. “Anyway”, he coughs, “They burned the whole barn down, so neither that stupid fucking pole nor the vamps should be able to hurt anybody anymore.”

Sam nods, allowing himself a small smile. He knows that having this one danger banned doesn´t automatically mean that they will both live long and fulfilled lives, free of pain and never forced to be separated, and yet for the moment, he takes the win. Taking a closer look at his brother, he has to ask. “There is something else though, isn´t there? You are practically glowing, Dean. What is it you are not telling me?” 

Dean holds his gaze, and it takes him just a moment before he cracks a smile so wide, he fears his lips may split, feels his eyes water from a happiness he has never felt. The happiness that comes with the chance of a happy ending.

There is a knock on the door. Both brothers look up in unison.

“Eileen should be here no earlier than dawn”, Sam frowns. “I am not particularly awaiting anybody.”

“No”, Dean smiles, and a single tear rolls down his cheek, “but I am.” 

He takes two steps at once and yet the bunker´s door seems farer and farer away the closer he gets. Rationally, Dean knows it could only have been a few seconds since he got up and sprinted towards the stairs, but now as he is standing in front of it, fingers closed around the handle, a weight presses him down into the deep, dark corners of his soul and for a fleeting moment, he feels cold steel pressing into his back, breaking through his skin, finding its way through his flesh and right into his heart – he shakes his head and death and destruction leave his vision. The picture of Lucifer standing in front of the same door, betraying the same hope he is harboring right now, just days prior – he wipes it all away. Trusts in Jack. Trusts in his own ability to take whatever pain life will throw at him next. And he opens the door.

There is an angel. He has the bluest eyes Deas has ever seen and he is wearing a dirty trenchcoat. He is a bit smaller than him, but his wings are painted black on the walls and the ceiling behind him, making up tenfold for the height difference. His smile is a little lopsided and there are crinkles in the corners of his face that weren´t there twelve years ago. And yet it is, unmistakable, his angel.

“Hello, Dean”, he greats him it that gravel voice of his. “I apologize that it has taken me so long to come back to you.” He wants to say more, Dean can see him preparing his speech, about the Empty and Heaven and his confession, but he can´t hear it right now, cannot process any shred of information if he doesn´t wanna pass out of exhaustion right there and then. So instead he does the one thing he can do: Slings his arms around the angel and holds on for dear life. Cradling Cas´s head in one hand close to his, his other hand strong and save resting on his back, pulling him close. He closes his eyes, a second tear joining the first. Their foreheads bump gently together.

“I love you too, you absolute assbutt”, he whispers into the silence between them, and, because it doesn´t feel enough, will never feel like he said it enough even if no other words will leave his lips for the rest of eternity because he missed out on telling his angel for so many years, he adds “don´t you ever dare to leave me again. Be happy with me.” 

And when they finally do share the kiss both men in their own way have waited for a long time, Dean knows. There may be no credits rolling, no sunset for his family to drive into, no final thank you, nobody to write the words The End beneath their lives. But they have fought – he and Sam and Cas. They have fought long and hard. And they had won, for now. And whatever lies in front of them – well, he thinks they deserve a soft epilogue.

Smiling against his angel´s lips, feeling his brother´s presence behind them as he too greets their friend, he had thought they´d lost forever, he knows that this is it. Not the way their story should end. But how it continues. How it always will continue as long as they are here and they are breathing and they are together. The epilogue of their life may have started. But at least on Dean´s part, he is determined to make it a long one. Because they had fought hard. And now, they deserved to live softly.


End file.
